


Chicken Soup for Chicken Pox

by just_a_hungry_author



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Chicken Pox, Chicken Soup, Fever, Irondad, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 15:28:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22258501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_hungry_author/pseuds/just_a_hungry_author
Summary: Peter neglects to tell Tony and Steve he has the chicken pox.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 149





	Chicken Soup for Chicken Pox

It was an early fall day. 

The crisp air that was settling made it perfect to wear a hoodie outside, and multicolored leaves were constantly swirling towards the ground. 

It was a training day, which meant Steve prepared the all the meals in the Compound so they fit the number of calories needed for the workout that particular day.

At that moment he was making scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon, and home fries, which meant it would be a pretty heavy regimen. 

Everyone started to gather in the kitchen as it hit 8am. 

The chorus of good mornings followed by the sound of plates being loaded with food was what woke Peter, who had slept through Friday’s wake up call. 

He made his way downstairs after getting dressed quickly, so it wasn’t until he sat down at the table that he began to notice something was wrong. 

The teen was chewing on a waffle when he realized there was a dull ache in his head, and a slight uneasiness in his stomach. 

Brushing it off, he continued to eat, hoping it would just go away. 

Training was particularly hard for Peter that day. 

Along with his combat training with Nat, Bucky, and Thor, he had to do four sets with a two hundred pound deadlift weight, and beat his record swinging time with a two hundred and twenty pound weight on his back. 

When he finally got to stop for a break, Tony walked up to him. 

“Your face is looking a little red there, Pete.” He teased. “You going soft on me?” 

Peter took a long gulp of his water. 

“Yeah, right.” He replied. “And exactly what training have you been doing today Mister Stark?”

“Flying with a three hundred pound weight.” 

“Your suit still does all the work for you.” 

“Most of it,” Tony replied. “Not all.” 

Peter shook his head and drank more of his water. 

“You have little red bumps on your face.” 

“It’s acne, Mister Stark.” Peter replied. “It happens.” 

“Alright, Hormone Boy.” Tony joked. “I’ll leave you to your teenage rebellion.”

The seconds ticked by all too slowly for Peter, and by the time training was over, he was exhausted. 

He went to take a shower and change clothes, which is when he realized it wasn’t just exhaustion. 

The headache and uneasiness had never left him, and he now had a deep ache in his muscles to accompany his bad feelings. 

Peter sighed. 

All he wanted to do was go back to bed, but if he didn’t show up for lunch Steve, not to mention Tony, would notice something was wrong. 

Pulling on a shirt, he trudged out to the kitchen, coming up with a plan that involves avoiding putting any food into his uneasy stomach. 

Lunch consisted of pulled pork sandwiches and cornbread, which was one of Peter’s favorites. 

However, that particular day Peter was not up for it. 

He sat at the table and pretended to be enjoying himself, loosely following along in the conversation and contributing every once in a while, just enough that no one would call him out for being quiet. 

He had managed to choke down half of his sandwich by the time everyone else began to clear their dishes away. 

“Only half a sandwich?” Tony noticed. “You dieting today, Pete?” 

“Actually, it’s two and a half.” Peter lied. “Your attention is lacking today.” 

Tony thought for a moment. 

He _hadn’t_ been paying that much attention to the teen, so he might’ve missed the kid grabbing more helpings. 

He shrugged. “I may be a genius, but that doesn’t mean I know everything.”

Peter smirked and stood up. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.“ 

"Whatever you say, kid.” 

Two hours later, Steve was having trouble with an equation, an equation he knew Peter could solve. 

Sure, he could’ve asked Tony, but Peter’s room was closer, and he hadn’t actually talked to the kid much today, outside of training at least. 

He knocked lightly on the teenager’s door. 

When a few seconds passed and there was no response, he knocked again. 

“Peter?” 

Again not getting a response, Steve slowly opened the door. 

Peter was curled up in his bed, and he appeared to be sleeping. 

Even though the kid was asleep, his desk lamp was on and his laptop was off the charger. 

Embracing the mom side of his personality, Steve walked over to plug in the laptop and turn off the light. 

As he reached for the desk lamp, Steve got a good look at Peter. 

The teen’s face was pale, but red at the same time. 

He had little bumps all over, bumps that were different from acne… 

“For God’s sake, Peter.” Steve mumbled. 

He shook the boy’s shoulder lightly. 

When he opened his eyes, Steve wasted no time. 

“Peter, have you told Tony you’re sick?” 

“What?” Peter started, “I’m not-”

“Don’t start with that.” Steve argued. “You have chicken pox all over your face. Probably your body too.” 

Changing the direction of his voice, Steve called out to Friday. “Friday, tell Tony to get his ass in here.” 

“Of course.” Friday chirped. 

Tony was in the doorway less than a minute later, his hands covered in black streaks. 

“What is it, Rogers? I’m busy.” 

“Too busy to notice your kid’s illness?”

Tony’s demeanor immediately changed and he focused all his attention on Peter. 

“What?” 

“He has chicken pox, Tony.” Steve said. “And we had him training this morning.” 

“I’m fine, Mister Stark.” Peter started. “Training wasn’t even that bad today. I bet right now I could go beat my record-”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Tony replied. 

“Friday,” Steve called, “What’s Peter’s current temperature?” 

“Mister Parker has a current body temperature of one hundred and one point six.” 

Tony sighed. “Pete, you should have said something.” 

“I’m fine!” 

“Obviously you’re not.” Steve replied. “Do you realize what could have happened to you if you passed out during training? You had two hundred pound weights on your back all morning!”

“I handled it.” Peter mumbled, turning away. 

“That’s not the point!” Tony replied. 

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” Peter snapped. “I’m almost eighteen and you two still treat me like a little kid!” 

“Peter, at eighteen you’re still a teenager.” Steve replied. “Your brain isn’t fully developed and you’re not old enough to buy alcohol or cigarettes, so tell me, what exactly qualifies you as an adult?” 

Peter, not knowing what to say, stormed out of the room. 

“He wants to be treated like an adult yet he acts like that.” Tony said. “It’s unbelievable.” 

“To be fair, he’s sick.” Steve replied. “It’s not surprising that he isn’t as mature as usual.” 

“I’m gonna go find him.” 

Steve placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Give him a few minutes.” 

Peter had made his way to one of the quieter lounges. 

It was in the basement, so no one really used it. 

He wished he could go back to his bed, but as far as he knew Steve and Tony were still there. 

He put his hands in his head and took a deep breath when a voice startled him. 

“What’s wrong bug-boy?”

Peter relaxed slightly at the sight of Nat, he hadn’t even heard the door open.

“What are you doing down here?” He asked. 

“No one comes to this lounge,” Nat replied with a shrug. “Sometimes you gotta get away from everyone.” 

She sat down next to Peter. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Peter sighed. “Tony and Steve are treating me like a little kid. I’m an Avenger. I’m gonna be eighteen soon and they insist that I’m still a child.” 

“You are a child.”

This shocked Peter. “What?” 

“You’re just a kid, Pete. But that doesn’t mean anything bad. You’re a teenager, which means that you’ll be mature sometimes, and immature other times. The mood swings, the angst, the insecurity of it all. I’m surprised you’re as  
mature as you are.” 

“What’s your point?” 

“The point is you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Physically and emotionally. Your age doesn’t matter the majority of the time, but enjoy being a kid while you still are one. When you’re an adult, you’ll miss the way  
everyone around here treats you. You’ll want to be comforted or appreciated or praised, but you won’t know how to ask for it. So enjoy it now.” 

Peter gave a small smile. “I guess I should apologize to Tony and Steve.”

Nat looked at the teen. “I would give them a little bit to cool down. What were they mad about anyway?”

“I have the chicken pox, and I was training all morning.” 

Nat smiled. “Yeah, they would be pretty pissed about that. Wanna know my secret cure for chicken pox?”

It had been almost an hour since Peter had stormed out of his bedroom, and Tony had decided that enough was enough.

“Where’s Peter?” He called to Friday.

“The basement lounge.” Friday replied. 

Making his way downstairs, Tony mentally prepared for what he would say. 

He had come up with the perfect ‘I’m sorry but that doesn’t mean you’re in the right’ spiel and was just about to say it when he realized Peter was asleep on the couch. 

Not only that, but Natasha was next to him, writing in a journal.

“Nat?” 

Natasha shushed him. “He just fell asleep not too long ago.” 

“I wanted to talk to him.” 

“Save your breath.” Nat said. “I already had a chat with him. I’m sure he’ll be apologizing once he wakes up.” 

“How’d you get him to sleep?” Tony asked. 

Nat smirked and nodded toward the empty bowl on the coffee table. 

“Chicken soup for chicken pox.” She replied. “Knocks 'em right out.”


End file.
